Moments in Life
by NettieC
Summary: One afternoon, one accident and two lives hang in the balance. Her life and his heart could both die if she gives up. Oneshot.


Moments in Life

Disclaimer: Not mine...but I'm allowed to play with them.  
(Written as a challenge on HBX)

It was a beautiful spring day, the sky was blue and there wasn't a cloud in sight. The sun beamed brightly sending rays through the car windshield and dancing across Mac's face as she reclined back in the passenger's seat of Harm's Lexus, her eyes closed. The warmth trying to enter her body and soothe her troubled soul.

Everything in her life was going haywire and, although she was a marine, her fight and determination had seriously waned. Paraguay had taken an even bigger toll than she ever expected, her break up with Clay had shattered her, though she'd never admit it, the doctor's diagnosis devastated her and to top it off the Admiral retired and nothing seemed right anymore.

Mac listened to Harm as he hummed along to the radio, she turned to watch him. He looked tired and much older than she'd realised. Grey hairs were coming in around his temples and there were more lines around his eyes. It had been so long since she'd looked at him, really looked at him, she hadn't realised just how big a toll recent events had taken on him as well.

Harm looked across and smiled at her.  
"What's up, Mac?" he asked, catching her staring at him.  
She just stared back; she was too tired for words, too tired to start anything, so she remained silent.  
Harm looked back at her several times before noting the tears in her eyes; he quickly pulled the car over and turned it off. He undid his seatbelt and turned to her.

"What is it, Mac?" he asked, taking his hands in hers.  
"It's nothing…I'm just tired," Mac answered.  
"Tired of what?" he asked, pushing her hair back behind her ear. He had seen her physically tired before, he'd even seen her extremely fatigued and exhausted but this wasn't anything physical and he knew it.  
"Of everything," she said so quietly, he had to strain to hear it.  
"Want to narrow it down for me?" he asked gently. This was not the Mac he was used to dealing with; the fire in her eyes had been quenched.  
"Nah…it's not worth it," she said, turning her eyes back to the road.  
"Yes it is, Mac," he replied.  
"I just want it all to be o…" she began but her sentence was interrupted by the screeching of brakes.

The screeching of brakes was accompanied by the grating sound of metal on metal as Harm's Lexus became airborne, courtesy of the removal truck which had clipped the rear end and catapulted it through the air. With a sickening crunch the Lexus impacted an electricity pole and Mac's side of the car caved in. It was all over in matter of seconds.

Harm shook his head trying to find clarty. He wiped his hand across his face and realised the warm liquid trickling down was blood and not sweat. His shoulder and chest felt like lead, thanks to the air bags but at least he was alive. Realising he hadn't heard Mac he looked up at her and would have screamed if voice had of come to his throat.

She was slumped over the deployed airbag, her head bleeding profusely from the damage inflicted by the shattered window. The door had caved in and her hip was resting on concrete of the pole.  
"Mac? Mac?" he called feebly, trying to get his arm to move across the car and to her face. It took him three tries to coordinate it. He wanted it to be a gentle caress but his hand landed on her with a thud, his shoulder nearly out of it's socket.

He could hear yelling from outside the vehicle as he fumbled to feel for a pulse.  
"Mac, please, please…" he begged. "Open your eyes, please." She didn't respond.  
He heard his door being opened and some Good Samaritan trying to ease him out the car but he couldn't leave her – not yet, not knowing if she was alive.  
"Don't worry about me, get help for her," Harm begged of the stranger. "Please."  
"Help's on the way, sir, but we have to get you out too," the young man said.  
Harm was resistant; he didn't want to leave Mac, not now, not ever.  
"Sir, if you get out I can help your wife," the Samaritan said. Harm eased himself out of the car without correcting him. Another witness grabbed his arm and helped him to sit down on the kerb before tending as best she could to his facial wounds.

"She's alive," he heard the young man in the car yell back at him and for the first time since the impact he allowed himself to breathe.

It took thirty five minutes until the paramedics arrived and had Mac loaded up in the ambulance. Their faces told Harm the prognosis was dire. He pleaded with them to let him travel with her and reluctantly they agreed. He sat in the front seat and spent most of the trip trying to look back at Mac; it did nothing to help the pain in his neck or his level of distress.

After she was assessed in the ER the consultant surgeon was called and immediate surgery was ordered. Harm sat with her until she was taken in and only when she went through the doors of the OR did he allow himself to be taken back down to the ER and assessed.

The doctor informed him he had multiple facial lacerations courtesy of the windshield, soft tissue injury to his chest and a dislocated shoulder which had gone back in. He also had bruising to his head, neck and side and would be extremely sore for the next week at least but he would make a full recovery.

It made no difference to him; if Mac didn't survive his life would become a daily function rather than a meaningful existence. He may have survived with his body pretty much intact but if she didn't make it his heart would be dead and he knew it.

Rather than remaining on the ER trolley in the trauma room where he was supposed to, Harm sat in the OR waiting room, wanting to know immediately Mac was alright. The surgeon came to get him after Mac had been wheeled into recovery.  
"Commander Rabb," the surgeon said approaching him.  
Gingerly he stood up. "She's alright, isn't she?" he said urgently.  
"She came through the surgery but she's still in a critical condition," the man said solemnly.  
"But she's going to be okay," Harm said, repeating what had been his prayerful mantra for the last hour.  
"Look, it's too early for us to say. Sarah had significant internal damage and we've done our best to repair it. The rest is up to her," the surgeon said quietly.  
"Well, Mac's a fighter," Harm said, "She'll make it."

Harm was led into the recovery room and was stunned to see just how pale and unwell she looked. She had tubes and sensors all over her body, an oxygen mask on her face and a range of machines registering each and every one of her body's attempts to stay alive.  
"God, Mac," Harm muttered as he moved to her bedside. He reached for her hand and picked it up gingerly before moving it to his lips.

The machines started to beep louder and faster and Harm looked up at them trying to figure out what they were indicating.  
"Sats are dropping," a nurse reported from behind him.  
"Resps down, pulse up," reported another one.  
"What's happening?" asked Harm as someone gently moved him back from the bed.  
"Her vitals are deteriorating. Sir, you're going to have to wait…"  
"No, I'm not going anywhere!" Harm said defiantly as he stepped towards her once more.  
"Sir, really, they need room to move," the nurse said.  
"Fine, But I'm not leaving," he said.

When the flurry of activity slowed down Harm looked over at the surgeon.  
"Is she okay? Harm asked.  
The man shook his head. "She's very weak, son."  
Harm cringed, he knew Mac was struggling to cope, in the car she'd all but said she wanted it over, now perhaps she was giving up.

Harm moved back to the bed and kissed her forehead. In a low but firm voice he growled at her.  
"Dammit, Colonel! You're a Marine. Fight like one!"  
He watched as her vitals stabilised and he smiled, she'd heard him. She was fighting, this was his marine, the one he knew, the one he loved.

"She's improving," said a nurse from behind him making notes on the chart.  
Harm smiled again, after waiting what felt like an eternity Mac's eyelids began to flutter but she didn't wake.  
"When will she wake up?" he asked the nurse who was checking her pulse.  
"It could be any minute now," the nurse reported.  
"Or?" asked Harm.  
"Or it could still be a while off. It's all up to Sarah now." The nurse recorded the details and moved on.

Harm stood up from his chair and leaned back over the bed, his lips inches from her ear.  
"You listen to me, Sarah MacKenzie; you are going to fight like hell to get through this. You are not going to die without hearing me tell you that I love you. Do you understand? You are going to open your damned eyes and you are going to tell me you love me back, have you got that?"

He watched for any response but none came. Two hours later, when Mac had been taken to the ward, Harm was asleep in the easy chair beside her. She awoke and lifted his hand which was entwined with hers and kissed it.  
"Harmon Rabb, I …love …you… back," she croaked and although he missed the words he knew she was talking.

He opened his eyes and moved to her  
"What did you say?" he asked quietly, desperate to hear her speak again.  
"I said I love you back," she whispered.  
He brushed his lips against hers and although it wasn't anything like he'd ever fantasised about it was better. They were both alive and she loved him back – there was never a more perfect moment in his life.


End file.
